Ellen felt a trickle of foreboding. "You wouldn’t destroy—"
She shook her head. "No need if you take the right precautions in the first place. Do you want me to tell you about-"
Ellen shuddered, thinking of the serpent in the Garden of Eden whispering to Eve. "No, no thank you. I have to pack. And I have no intention of indulging in that sort of unspeakable behaviour, so I will thank you to not bring it up again."
Georgina gave a mocking laugh. "Unspeakable, is it?"
She began to regale her sister with quite a few terms regarding sexual intercourse ranging from the mild to the appallingly obscene, until finally Ellen clamped her hands over her ears and said, "That’s enough! Leave this room at once. If you cannot behave better than this, I don’t wish to know you either."
"All right, dearie, but you don’t know what you’re missing," Georgina said, casting her a withering glance.
"Do you?" she flung back.
That gave her pause. "What do you mean?"
"One good man who would really love you, debauched and degraded as you are?"
"How dare you!"
"If it’s all so wonderful, Georgina, why do you change men more often than your gowns? Now please leave."
Georgina was suddenly as sad as a child who had been told she would not get any cake. "But can’t I come-"
"No, I’ve already told you, we have a full party with no room in the carriage, and there’s an end to it."
"All right, I’m leaving." She pouted, but Ellen did not relent. "Have fun in London, Ellen," Georgina said, her eyes now narrowed slits glittering with malice. "But mark my words, pride goes before a fall. You can treat me like this now, but you’ll be sorry."
"Only if you try to get even with me, in which case I’m sorry for you," Ellen returned calmly, surprising herself once again with her own boldness.
But then, wasn’t time alone with Ash worth fighting for? He was her special friend. They had invited her and disliked Georgina. And Ellen wanted him all to herself…
Her sister, with one last long look to see if she could get her sister to change her mind, saw it was pointless. She spun on her heel and left.
Ellen blew out a shaky breath, and finished her packing.
Chapter Fourteen
Ellen had to admit she normally found the journey to London tedious, but with Ash her constant companion, the hours seemed to fly by. Even though she hated the jolting of the carriage and loved a good warm bed, she actually looked forward to getting underway once more each day, for then she had Ash ever at his side.
He was as attentive as any beau, constantly making sure she had enough to eat and drink, and was warm enough and not jostled too badly. If they ever got to a particularly bad stretch of the road, he kept her nestled snugly in the corner with his huge frame, and the contact was the most thrilling thing she had ever experienced.
She found the conversation endlessly fascinating and startlingly romantic. The more she got to know Ash, the more she fell in love with him.
"I can’t believe how well-educated you are. It puts me and most English people quite to shame," she said at one point, wringing her hands in the lap of her modest grey gown.
"I was very fortunate in my tutors," Ash said modestly. "I learnt languages in India, and comparative religions there and with Jonathan. As we said before, India is a seat for many of the world’s religions, and so I’ve chosen to study them. I’m a man of science, but I would also like to be a man of philosophic thought. I often wonder why people dwell upon their differences of belief, rather than what they have in common."
"I suppose that’s true."
Eswara nodded. "If you consider all the great religions’ teachings, for example, they have a great number of similarities."
"Yes, as Mother says, in Christianity, they tell us of the nature of love, ‘Beloved, let us love one another, for love is of God; and everyone that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God. He that loveth not, knoweth not God, for God is love.’ In Confucianism, ‘To love all men is the greatest benevolence.’"
Martin supplied, "In Buddhism their followers are told, ‘Let a man cultivate towards the whole world a heart of love.’"
Ash added, "In Taoism they teach that ‘Heaven arms with love those it would not see destroyed.’ In Sikhism they believe ‘God will regenerate those in whose hearts there is love.’"
"Yes, and in Jainism they declare, ‘The days are the most profit to him who acts in love,’" Martin told her.
"I must admit I am ignorant of most of these religions. But you are Hindu, are you not? What do Hindus believe?"
Ash gave her a warm smile. "One can best worship the Lord through love."
"I see."
Ash nodded. "Hinduism is a religion of Love. All Hindu dogmas and activities are based on love towards all living beings. Based on this philosophy of love, great Hindu saints have done noble acts of charity for us to emulate."
"For example," Eswara said, "the saintly emperor Chivy donated his own flesh to a hunter. Maharishi Dedisi donated his bones to make a weapon called Vajrayutham for the benefit of mankind."
"And Saint Kannappar gave his own eyes to Lord Shiva. In Hindu mythology we have many stories of acts of love, virtue and kindness not only to save human beings but non-human beings as well. One of the main tenets of Hinduism is charity and compassion, which leads the soul God-ward."
"And what do they mean by regeneration, do you suppose? Ash mentioned it before in connection with Shiva, death and rebirth."
"We believe in reincarnation. That the soul is transferred. That death is just a new beginning, similar to the way that Jesus died and was resurrected. Only in the spiritual, not corporeal sense."
She stared. "How exotic."
Eswara shrugged. "Not really. The ancient Celts in Ireland believed it too, thousands of years ago. Some people posit that even the great monument at Stonehenge might have something to do with it."
"Fascinating," she said sincerely, her blue eyes alight for a brief moment before they clouded over. "But I don’t think I like the idea of having to come back, do it all over again. It’s been bad enough the first time," she admitted in a quiet tone. "Though I would like to see my brother and sisters again, I suppose."
Ash saw the grim expression cross her face and declared lightly, "Too much religion and philosophy is not good for you, my dear Miss Jerome. There must be pleasure on this trip too. So no, put that sewing back in your basket, and play backgammon with me."
As they played and his mother sat darning socks, Eswara looked knowingly from one to the other. They didn’t realise yet just how important they were to each other, but there was no hurry. She would let them take their time to get to learn more about their characters, likes and dislikes.
She and Martin were glad to act as her chaperones. If the chance came for him to be romantically involved with Ellen, she would quite happily step out of the way and let them make the most of it.
She had had her doubts at first, but had decided that Ellen was a young lovely woman. Ash would be fully mature enough to cope with a wife soon. She knew all couples had to learn to get used to one another’s foibles, but she was sure that Ash could make her happy.
Whether or not Ellen could make Ash happy remained to be seen. She was willing to consider the possibility given the light that shone in her son’s eyes every time he looked at the lovely young woman.
Up until now he had never met anyone he could get close to. Know him, not just his surface appearance, which was most certainly attractive. But all the girls he ever met were only interested in soirees , balls, parties, and how many percents per annum, and the latest on-dit.
Ellen was different. She hung on his every word, no matter how outlandish, and the children loved her. She had fit into their little circle effortlessly. But the trip to London would be the proof of the pudding.
"And as long as we are up in Town, may I go visit the clinic?" Ellen asked as they wound up the game.
Ash
looked at her in surprise. "Yes, if you like. Though Oliver will be there. Are you sure it will not be too distressing for you?"
She shook her head. "No, not at all. We’ve talked about this. And I do want to learn more, especially about women’s medicine."
Eswara nodded approvingly. "Quite right. Women like the company of other women at a time like that. Childbirth is a dangerous thing for both mother and child."
"Though much less so in this district now that you’re here. Some of the midwives are a disgrace," Ash said with a shake of his head.
"Yes, well, I’m sure that Miss Jerome doesn’t want to talk about so gruesome a subject now."
"Oh, but I do," she found herself saying. "I wish to know about all of your work, and not just helping you to order supplies. What I've learned thus far has been a great help to my mother. And I would like to be much more useful in society, to everyone, not just my own family. I’m afraid I’ve been far too self-indulgent."
"Very kind, I’m sure," Eswara said with a little bow. "But I’m certain Ash and I can provide you with much more amusing diversions."
"Yes, I still haven’t told you the myth around the whole festival of Holi."
"True. Go ahead, I can see you are dying to tell me," she said with a gentle smile.
"The story relates to an ancient demoniac king in India known as Hiranya Kasyapu. He was a cruel and tyrannical ruler. All his subjects followed his orders except for his son Prahlad. Prahlad was an ardent devotee of Vishnu. This infuriated his father, who wanted to punish him. The king asked Prahlad to embrace a red hot pole. He did so, but was unhurt.
"Next he asked Prahlad to jump off a steep cliff. He obeyed again, and yet also remained unharmed. Prahlad obeyed his father each time, chanting Vishnu’s name all the while. Exasperated, Hiranya Kasyapu ordered that Prahlad be trampled by an elephant. Once again, he was unhurt.
"As Prahlad was not hurt by all the punishments, Hiranya Kasyapu called his sister Holika. She was a demoness and had been blessed by the gods in such a way that she would not burn in a fire. Holika made Prahlad sit on her lap in the fire.
"But this time, Holika was burnt to death and Prahlad was unhurt. Eventually, the ordeals faced by Prahlad resulted in the emanation of the god Narahari or Narasimha, who destroyed Hiranya Kasyapu. Again, this displayed the triumph of a true Bhakta or devotee over the evil represented by Hiranya Kasyapu. Prahlada never lost faith in his Lord despite all his ordeals. Holi therefore represents the triumph of good over evil, and the conquest of sensual values by spiritual values."
"I see. You certainly have some marvelous myths."
"Elly-phant," Ranjeet piped up, just waking from his nap.
They all laughed, and Ash took Ellen’s hand and began giving her a massage as they sat there singing some jolly songs to help pass the time.
Ellen was also pleased to get to know the Avenels and Stones better on the trip, for they moved around from carriage to carriage to break up the monotony of the leisurely four-day journey, and all got to spend some time with each other.
Randall, the younger of the brothers, had taken to being an Earl in a marvelously practical way, and was already making significant inroads into parliamentary reform.
His eldest brother Michael was compiling a multi-lingual dictionary with the help of his wife Bryony and one of the other Rakehells, Alexander Davenport, a French emigre who had been a reconaissance officer during the war and who, like Michael, had nearly died of his appalling injuries.
Once Alexander had regained his sight, he had been a devoted family man and gone back to his trade and prize roses. Also like Randall, he was a younger son who had lost all of his brothers in tragic circumstances, though Randall had eventually been reunited with Michael, whom everyone had thought dead. Blake had been the surgeon at the field station at the Battle of Toulouse who had saved Michael, got him home, and helped him recover.
Ellen knew the Stones a little from her visits to Josephine when she had been alive, but she had always thought Vanessa fearsomely intelligent.
Now she found herself perfectly at ease, and able to hold her own upon any topic of conversation. She marvelled at how much she had changed in only a few short weeks basking in all the attention Ash had provided.
But her favourite couple was undoubtedly the Duke and his sprightly wife Charlotte. She had been most assiduous in her attentions to little Jo Stone, which Ellen had to admit she had been embarrassed about.
Really, she ought to do more for her niece and brother-in-law, but between the past history with Vanessa’s half-brother Gerald almost murdering Martin, and Henry and the child being a grim reminder of what had happened to her sister, she had avoided Stone Court. Ellen resolved to redress that oversight on her part as soon as she returned to Somerset.
For the moment though, Ellen had worked hard at her new duties and deserved a bit of a vacation. As soon as they arrived at the townhouse, Charlotte showed her to a lovely chamber in pink, cream and primrose, and told her to make herself at home.
Ash was on one of the upper floors, and she thought of him sleeping so near yet so far with much agitation. They would all have to share the bathrooms in the house—would it afford an opportunity for further intimacy?
But no. What on earth was she thinking? She couldn’t possibly do anything untoward in front of the Duke or the Rakehells. They would all think her as bad as Georgina.
But the way Ash had kissed her neck and embraced her was never far from her thoughts as they shopped, rode in Rotten Row, and began to cook for Holi in the great kitchens at the bottom of the magnificent townhouse.
Ellen enjoyed her cooking lessons even more than she had enjoyed shopping for a couple of new dresses, adding a rich royal blue and a pale hyacinth one to her collection of more mature-looking gowns.
She was fascinated by all the herbs and spices, and wondered how Eswara could remember the names of them all. Too her surprise, Martin and Ash also helped with the cooking, and even the Duke, whom she was pleased to see got along very well with Ash, arguing long and hard about politics.
The Duke was a good man, and a Radical politician, but a realist too. Ash, on the other hand, had all the extremism of youth.
"We can’t run the risk of revolution such as French had, Ash. Look how that turned out. There must be gradual reform."
"Not now, it’s time to make the blessings," Eswara said, handing out spices and coconut, which they then all sprinkled into the fire.
Then as the senior person at the festival, she handed out to each man a sachet of spices, and a pyala , a crisp new bank note, and a glass of whisky.
Then she went around to all the women with some change, which she called kothli . Both gifts were meant to symbolise prosperity, that they should always have money in their pockets.
After the meal, they adjourned to the drawing room, and Ellen watched curiously as Ash sidled around the chamber locking all of the doors and removing the keys. Then he signalled to her, and they crept out of the room and he slammed and locked the door.
"What on earth are you—"
"It’s a custom for the holiday. Locking up all the elder married couples in the room. Now we get to ransom them."
"Why us?"
"We’re the youngest couple."
She digested that comment in silence, blushing.
"Now we have to sing."
"Sing what?" she asked in confusion.
"We need to make it up. It has to be in honour of the occasion."
Martin and Eswara were already banging on the door.
"If you want coffee, you need to give up your ransom," Ash called though the portal.
Martin replied with a laugh, "Gladly, but you two have to sing."
Ash whispered in her ear, she changed a few words, and they both sang,
"If you want to get out,
Without more lesiure,
Don’t you dare pout,
Just give us some treasure."
Then Ash opened the door. Ellen was
amazed to find that every single person had a gift for her, a lovely gold bangle, some with precious gems, some without, matching rings, and even a couple of the dresses that she had admired but not bought in the shop because she was trying to be frugal. There was also some lovely silk from Eswara, and she stared at Ash in surprise.
"I hope you like your ransoms, little cousin," Martin said with a laugh. "Though strictly speaking, you’re not married yet. But I hope soon."
Eswara nudged her husband. Realising he had said too much, he grabbed the coffee tray from the butler and brought it over to where Charlotte was sitting.
Ash looked at the Duchess’ slightly pinched expression, and made himself available to help pour and hand out cups.
The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 5 Page 50
